Hockey Doesn't Help
by strawberrycupcake101
Summary: AU You bet it doesn't! Well not for Matthew anyway! Ever since he lost to Alfred, in the Winter Olympics, at Hockey he just cant handle the dissappointment! Matthew ends up becoming drunken and depressed untill a certain someone intervenes!


He was shocked. He was disappointed. He was furious. And now he was drunk.

Matthew never usually succumbed to the enticing powers of alcohol to deal with a bad day, but this was an exception. Just this morning he had been overly thrilled to be playing in the Olympic hockey playoffs. Canada had always been known to kick ass at hockey. Although they had quite a shock when America beat them during one of the many games before the playoff. But being as he was, Matthew just brushed it aside, thinking it was a minor quirk in his game because he knew all to well that he had game when it came to hockey. Nonetheless, Canada played on and continued to hold up their reputation as probably the best hockey team around. So how did it end up that America beat him, winning the gold medal that was rightfully his. It pissed Matthew off so much, he couldn't even come up with a comparison. Sure no one really remembered who he was or the fact that Canada was actually a nation, but he could not sit by and allow America, of all people, to beat him at his own game. He wanted to get revenge, do something horrible to make America pay, but being the docile country he was, nothing came to mind. So he settled for drowning away his sorrows with Budweisers and Vodka (gifted from Russia, on his last birthday, before spouting nonsense of "becoming one with mother Russia" and such, and leaving)

So here he was, the docile, calm, and collected Matthew splayed over his couch, drunk past all limits of human capability. "Goddamn, America, that fuckin' asshole…" he muttered to nothing but the silence surrounding the room, before taking another swig from the almost empty Vodka bottle. "What t-the fuck does he know, a-a-about hockey? All he d-does is spout about how g-great he is," he paused, taking another swig from the dark bottle, "God Damn America" he spurted out before allowing the bottle to leave his hand, making a loud thud on the floor. He watched through blurred vision, as it rolled across the floor, before stopping at what seemed to be somebody's foot. Confused, he continued to watch as he saw the bottle be brought up a few feet before stopping. "My, My," the unknown intruder said, trading the bottles spot in his hands for a spot on the table, "What have we here? Don't you think this is a little to much _Mathieu? _

Matthew recognized that voice anywhere, clouded which such a thick accent, almost the same as his. "Francis," he spoke out of his teeth, almost like saying the name would bring cursed luck forever, "Just w-what the hell do you think you a-are doin' here?" he almost spat at the Frenchman before reaching for another bottle, crowded among the many empty others on the small table. But Francis wouldn't allow it. He quickly sidled over to the drunken nation and grabbed the dark bottle from his hands. "Now Mathieu, is that anyway to speak to the man who single handily raised you to what you are today? _Et mon_! What horrible taste in alcohol! I thought that maybe after all those years of living with me you would have raised your standards at least a little."

"Aww s-s-shut up! You say you raised me to what I a-am today? H-HA! Don't make me laugh. What I am is a loser and n-nothing but a loser." he added quite fiercely to be exact, but what could he say, alcohol usually brought out the meaner side of him. "Now mon cher, you are not a loser, nor have you ever been a loser!" Francis added quite matter-a-factly, "I thought I raised you better than this." he gestured to the empty bottles scattered around the room, "I mean is one lose, really driving you insane?"

"You don't g-get it do you?"

"What are you talking about? It was only a hockey game."

"And that's why you don't get it Francis! You'll never understand!"

"_Calmez-vous, Mathieu_."

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

Matthew sat up and glared a the man in front of him. By this point Matthew was on the brink of exploding and Francis kept pushing him further and further. France didn't understand. He never did. Throughout his life France had always told him to let things go, just forget about it. And he did, so many times. Well, he had all he could take up to this point and he wasn't about to let this fly by as well. "Mathieu, are you okay? You're kinda scaring me here. I'm sure we can talk thi-"

"You think I'm okay?" yelled Matthew, violently pulling Francis by his collar, so as he was face to face with the taller man. "What the hell is wrong with you? Do I look like I wanna talk this out? I am through with talking Francis!"

"Now Mathieu, I understand what you're going through but why make such a fuss over one little game?"

"This isn't about the fuckin game Francis! This is about everything! How America treats me as the brother who sometimes shows up and coincidently looks like him! This is about how all the other nations never remember who I fucking am! This is about all those times I have been pushed around and never gotten any respect!" Tears began to well up in the smaller nations eyes, slowly filling to the brim before overflowing. "Goddamnit." He whispered quietly before quickly letting go of the other's collar and hiding his face in the palms of hands, muffling his small cry's. France could only watch as the nation continued to cry, the nation he once raised, the nation he had watched grow over the years, the nation he had gotten countless smiles from in the past. And now he watched as his beloved nation broke down in front of him.

"I can't t-take it anymore Francis, I just can't. I d-d-on't even wanna be a n-nation anymore. I just wanna be g-gone from this goddamned world!" the Canadian sniffled out between tears. He continued to sob more before he felt a light touch on his chin, which brought him up to face a pair of familiar blue eyes. But something was different now. Those eyes didn't hold the normal easy-goingness that France was known for. No, they held a more seriousness, a more concerned look than the Canadian had ever seen. "_Mathieu_.." the Frenchman practically breathed, causing the teary-eyed nation to look away.

"Mathieu, look at me."

There was a cruel harshness in those simple words and Matthew was almost scared to look back, but he did. Those blue eyes locked with his and he knew he would never be able to break the other's gaze know, no matter how hard he tried. He let out a quite sob before the blonde spoke again. "Mathieu, I want you to listen and listen well. You are not a loser. You are not some forgotten nation. You are just as important as the rest of us, and you goddamn know it. Everyone cares for you deeply, whether you know it or not."

"You lie Francis. N-nobody cares! H-hell I could probably go and die and no one would even notice! Nobody would give a damn ab-!"

Matthew never got to finish his statement, for before he knew it, his mouth was locked with Francis's. It took the Canadian a moment before he realized what was happening and when he did, he kissed the blonde right back. He needed this, more than anyone could know. He needed to know he was real. He needed to know someone cared, someone truly deeply cared. And that's exactly what he got.

A few minutes later Francis broke the kiss, moving away to look at the small boy, and by the face he made, the Frenchman could tell he wasn't exactly thrilled about the absence of the others lips. He gave a small chuckle at the Canadians face before looking back to meet those sad, blue eyes. "I care Canada. You say no one cares but I do. Ever since you were little I only wanted the best for you. I wanted you to grow up and become a strong nation. And _bonte_ Mathieu, you have! Don't look down on yourself so much, alright?" And with that he straightened himself up, before turning to leave. He only got about two steps before he felt a tug on his sleeve. He turned his head slightly to see the brunette holding onto him, his eyes never leaving the floor.

"D-do you think you c-could stay awhile, Francis? _Veuillez_?"

"_Votre souhait est ma commande, Mathieu_."

* * *

HAHAHAHA! Franada rules~

Anyway,

So like i wrote this when i heard America and Canada were going to be playing in the Olympic games hockey playoff. So when the playoffs came i kept like begging they would lose but it turned out they won.

Damn.

So yeah no this is like AU and i still like it no matter what though! :p So like plz review cuz believ me they help and also if you want a story written i will be willing to write! so yeah i dont know what else to say...

OH YEAH!

since most of you probably dont speak ffrench here are the translations:

Et mon! - My goodness!

Calmez-vous, Mathieu - Clam down, Matthew

bonte! - goodness! (or something like that :p)

Veuillez - Please

Votre souhait est ma commande, Mathieu - Your wish is my command, Matthew


End file.
